


let's conspire to ignite

by vulpixie



Category: Free!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rimming, mentioned Yamazaki Sousuke/Matsuoka Rin, no actual mpreg occurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 20:10:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2401388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulpixie/pseuds/vulpixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>Haru wakes up drenched with sweat and tingling all over. </p><p> <em>Shit.</em><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	let's conspire to ignite

**Author's Note:**

> once again, i write a fic that i am too embarrassed to post to my [main account.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/starglide/pseuds/starglide) have some gratuitous weird alpha/omega porn.

Haru goes into his first heat shortly after he turns fourteen. He’s not surprised, really – he’d never expected to be an alpha – but he’d kind of hoped for the less complex set of beta genetics. It all seems so troublesome, the pheromones and the heats and the expectations. But the universe doesn’t care what he wants, because here he is, missing school and feeling like he’s on fire.

His mother had taken one whiff of him this morning and laughed awkwardly, saying that he was growing up. His father didn’t say anything at all, other than to tell him to go back to his room after breakfast. Haru wonders if he’s disappointed in him; it was always stressed in his health class that there was nothing wrong with being an omega, but there were still some people who thought that they weren’t good for anything other than having children. He doesn’t know how his father feels about that, or, really, much else for that matter.

Auntie Tachibana is an omega, and she’s wonderful, so Haru figures it can’t be _that_ bad to be one. Well, aside from this awful heat.

He’d tried to take a cool bath earlier, but that didn’t help at all. He knows what _would_ help, but that feels like giving in. If he just ignores his insistent cock and his quivering hole, (which, to his mortification, is already leaking fluid down his thigh) if he just _ignores_ them, maybe it’ll go away.

It doesn’t.

He’s fully surrendered by the time Makoto comes over, jacking himself off furiously in his bed with four fingers stuffed up his ass, his own cries so loud that he doesn’t hear him until he opens his door.

“Haru-chan, I brought your homework! Are you sick, because –” Makoto stops short, his eyes going comically wide. “ _Oh!_ I’m – I’ll leave this – bye!” he squeaks, dropping Haru’s homework and straight up bolting out of the room.

Haru closes his eyes and groans. He’s still vaguely annoyed by Makoto presenting as alpha six months earlier than him when he’s the younger one, but he’d been otherwise unaffected by the change until now. Now, just the brief hint he’d gotten of Makoto’s scent is driving up the wall with need. In school they’d been taught about how an alpha’s pheromones can make an omega go crazy, and vice versa, especially during heat. But that hadn’t prepared him for what it’s actually like. He wants to roll onto his back and bare his throat to Makoto, to beg him for his touch. He shivers, just the thought of it ramping up his desire.

He comes with a few more strokes of his cock, shuddering all over and collapsing onto the mattress. He hopes that’ll tide him over for at least the next couple of hours at least. He drifts in and out of sleep restlessly, dreaming fuzzily of warm green eyes and strong hands.

 

*

 

Makoto tries his best to never, ever let himself think about Haru like that. The one time he had, back when he’d walked in on Haru during his first heat, it had been all he could think about for _months_. Ever since then, he’s caught the scent of countless other omegas, but no one smells quite as good as Haru had that one summer afternoon. Haru had started taking heat suppressors shortly thereafter, so Makoto has never gotten to catch that delicious scent since then, but Haru still always smells nice and comforting and like _home_ outside of his heat.

During high school, a few alphas and even some betas had started to notice Haru. One time an alpha girl from their homeroom had even tried to kiss him, but Haru had jerked away and rejected her as gently as possible, but clearly uncomfortably. Haru just never seemed interested in dating or anything like that, although for a while Makoto had had his suspicions when Rin had come back from Australia.

Rin was an omega too, but same-presentation romances weren’t unheard of. Makoto could tell very quickly that Rin was interested in Haru like that, almost acting like an alpha with the way he’d crowd Haru against walls and, after they’d reconciled, flirt with him brazenly. Haru hadn’t seem to mind the way he did with other people’s advances, and sometimes he’d get this _look_ in his eyes when he talked about Rin. Kind of like the way he looked at water.

So, even though he’d done his best to hide it very carefully, for a while Makoto had nearly made himself sick with jealousy. He’d desperately wanted Haru to look at him like that, to get his pulse pounding, his eyes blazing. To be able to fire him up the way Rin did.

But, after a while, Rin’s interest appeared to wane. Makoto strongly suspects that had to do with Yamazaki-kun’s return. And it turned out Haru really hadn’t had feelings beyond rivalry and admiration for Rin after all, because he genuinely seemed to be happy at the announcement that Rin and Yamazaki-kun were seeing each other. Well, as happy as Haru could be, considering he and Yamazaki-kun still weren’t exactly fond of each other.

They’d graduated soon after, and now he and Haru share an apartment in Tokyo. It seemed easier than living in the dorms of their university, and possibly ending up with a terrible roommate. Their college didn’t allow alphas and omegas to be roommates, so they couldn’t have put in a request to reside together. Makoto prefers it this way; he’d been able to get a cat, something he would have never have been allowed had he lived on campus. Haru had insisted on naming it Mackerel the Second after Makoto’s old fish, but Makoto just calls her _baby_ or _sweetheart_ regardless. It always makes Haru bite back a smile, so Makoto’s pretty sure he’s not too set on the name.

It’s their third year, and they’ve settled into a nice, steady routine, now. Haru takes his morning bath, they eat breakfast together, and then they set off for their respective classes. Haru has swim practice later in the afternoon, and Makoto goes to his part-time job at the local grocery store. They’re pretty busy, but they still make time to talk about their days (Makoto doing most of the talking) before bed.

And then their careful routine gets turned upside down.

 

*

 

Haru wakes up drenched with sweat and tingling all over.

_Shit._

 

*

 

“Makoto. Makoto, get up.”

Makoto opens one bleary eye. Did he sleep through his alarm? No, something’s wrong. Haru looks positively distressed, skin flushed. Makoto goes completely alert.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” he asks apprehensively.

“No, I forgot my suppressors. You have to go. I can pay for you to get a hotel, since it’s my fault,” Haru says breathlessly, sounding like he’s barely holding it together.

Makoto inhales sharply and then immediately regrets it, because Haru smells – he smells like everything Makoto’s ever wanted. Makoto sits up unsteadily, breathing cautiously through his mouth.

“Yeah, I – I need to get out of here. Don’t worry about the hotel, I’ll take care of it.” He hastily tosses some clothes into his backpack, barely even paying attention to what he’s choosing.

Haru supports himself along the side of his bed, watching Makoto’s every movement with an intense focus. Makoto swallows hard.

“Haru, are you – do you need anything before I go? A glass of water?” he asks against his better judgment.

Haru’s brows are drawn together, seemingly thinking something over. “…You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Makoto groans. This is absolutely unfair. “You just told me to, remember? I can’t – I don’t know if I can control myself.”

“What if I don’t want you to control yourself,” Haru says, crawling forward.

Makoto scoots back against the dresser. “This is _such_ a bad idea,” he moans despairingly.

Haru stops right in front of him, his usually icy gaze now liquid with desire. “Go now, if you really want to. But if you want to stay,” He edges a bit closer. “Stay.”

Makoto’s resolve crumbles. He reaches forward and crushes Haru’s lips to his, moaning into his mouth. He’s wanted this for so long, and now that he has it, it’s better than anything he’s ever dreamed of. He takes a moment to hazily regret not being able to draw this out, to take this slowly, but they’re both trembling all over with need, and he feels dizzy with how badly he wants Haru. Now that he’s allowed himself to breathe in his scent, he absolutely can’t get enough of it. He pushes his face into Haru’s neck, inhaling deeply.

“Please,” Haru gasps, his fingers digging into Makoto’s shoulders.

Makoto runs his hands down Haru’s back, stopping briefly to smooth over his slim waist, before reaching down grab a handful his ass over his thin boxers. Boxers that have a wet spot where Haru’s slick has already soaked through. Makoto drops his head to Haru’s shoulder with a weak groan.

Haru’s desperately tugging at his pajama bottoms, rutting against his leg the best that he can in this position. Makoto decisively pulls them both onto his bed, bracing himself over Haru, breathing heavily. Haru resumes his attempt at pulling Makoto’s pants and boxers down, this time more successfully. He doesn’t bother to pull them off all the way, just lets Makoto’s cock spring out of its confines, then shoves his own boxers down to his knees and rolls over onto his stomach submissively.

“God,” Makoto rasps, smoothing his hands over Haru’s raised ass, hesitantly brushing a thumb over his hole, which clenches in response, leaking out even more slick over his hand.

“ _Please_ ,” Haru begs again, pushing into Makoto’s palm, throwing an arm over his heat-flushed face.

“Yes, okay, yes,” Makoto says breathlessly, using Haru’s own fluids to slick up his cock.

He tries to push in slowly, to let him adjust, but Haru’s not having any of it. He shoves himself back against Makoto’s hips, taking in every inch of him without warning. Makoto cries out, letting his face drop between Haru’s shoulder blades. The heat enveloping him is nearly unbearable; he’s not sure if it’s always like this or if it’s just because Haru’s in heat, but he’s never been harder in hisentire _life_. It feels like Haru’s heat is catching, lighting him on fire, too.

 “It’s – it’s not enough, Makoto, I c-can’t –” Haru stutters, his usual smooth voice sounding absolutely wrecked.

“I’ve got you, let me take care of you,” Makoto says breathlessly, pushing his sweaty hair back from his forehead and starting to thrust into him steadily.

Neither of them last very long – Haru’s already on edge from not coming yet in his heat and Makoto – well, it’s not his fault that his stamina’s not great yet, he’s never done this before. Haru winces a little in discomfort for the first time as he’s spread wide to accommodate Makoto’s knot, but when Makoto starts to fret, he glances over his shoulder to give him an exasperated look.

By the time Makoto’s knot starts to go down twenty minutes later, Haru’s pushing back onto his softening cock, face flushed again.

“Already?” Makoto whines.

“Sorry,” Haru says, sounding contrite.

“No, don’t be, I just don’t think I can go again this soon,” he says apologetically.

“S’okay, just – your fingers, anything, just touch me,” Haru pleads, clawing at his shirt, which Makoto belatedly realizes he’d never taken off.

Makoto slips out of him and leans back to replace the loss with his fingers. He’s got three digits in Haru when his spent come starts to seep out of him slowly. Something coils low in his stomach, hot and possessive. He pulls his fingers out, his eyes fixed on the pink and slightly puffy hole.

“What? Why did you –”

Makoto impulsively bends down and spreads his cheeks apart, staring as Haru clenches instinctively and releases more of his seed. He’s still not sure what comes over him, but one moment he’s just looking and the next the flat of his tongue is dragging from his perineum up to his tailbone.

Haru convulses, yelping in surprise and pleasure. “Wh-what are you doing? Makoto, that’s – _haaah_ ,” he protests, the rest of his sentence escaping him in a breathy moan.

“Is this okay?” Makoto pulls back enough to ask.

Haru just gives a jerky nod into the pillow, clearly too embarrassed to speak.

Makoto licks into him, the taste of his own release making his face heat up. Haru’s own taste is perhaps not-so-surprisingly pleasant – organic and faintly tangy-sweet from his slick. Makoto’s pretty sure his opinion is biased, though; he’d enjoy however Haru tasted if it made him feel this good. Haru writhes as Makoto points his tongue to penetrate him shallowly, his thumbs rubbing circles over Haru’s bony hips.

Haru’s whimpering shamelessly by this point, unconscious or uncaring of the sounds betraying his usual careful stoicism. Makoto reaches around to stroke his neglected cock which is stiff and leaking with the lack of attention. He pulls back the foreskin to fondle the exposed tip, making Haru alternately thrust into his hand and into his face.

Makoto leans back to kiss the crease of his thigh. “Come on, Haru-chan. Let go,” he says gently.

Haru gives a full-body shudder and goes over the edge with a dry sob. A good minute later, after he catches his breath enough to speak, he says, “I cannot believe you called me -chan during sex.”

Makoto smiles in amusement, wiping the hand that Haru came into on Haru’s stomach, who wrinkles his nose in half-hearted disapproval. He crawls up to lay next to him, pulling him into his arms. “Let’s go back to sleep for a while,” he says, closing his eyes, silently acknowledging that they’ll need to get up soon to sate Haru’s need again.

“You’re not the one who just came twice,” Haru says lazily, curling into his embrace, yawning.

Makoto smiles, succumbing to sleep quickly, but not before he gives himself a minute to savor the bittersweet fantasy that this is a quiet moment between mates, instead of a simple act of convenience.

                                                                                                                                                                                       

*

 

Haru’s heat lasts for a few more days. Makoto calls into work when they wake up the first morning, explaining the situation to his supervisor, who, to his obvious embarrassment, tells him to have a good time. Haru doesn’t bother calling his swim coach; he’ll deal with it when he shows up to practice again. He figures he’ll probably be upset, but he’ll get over it.

“I think it’s over,” Haru finally says with relief, collapsing onto his back after their last bout of activity. It’s been amazing, but now that the rush of endorphins are gone, he’s suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion. He stretches against the sheets, his sore muscles protesting at the sensation.

“Okay,” Makoto says, his tone strange and unreadable.

Haru frowns, rolling over to face him. “What?”

“It’s nothing.”

Haru’s frown grows deeper. “You’re lying.” Makoto’s eyes cut to the side. Something awful occurs to Haru and his stomach gives a sickening lurch. “Did I...did I pressure you into this?”

Makoto finally looks at him, his eyes wide in shock and dismay. “No! It’s just. I was just thinking it might be awkward now. Going back to normal.” He looks down, admitting quietly, “I don’t want things to change between us.”

Haru’s heart sinks. “You don’t?”

“Of course not! You’re my best friend.” _And that’s all,_ Haru thinks unhappily. Suddenly, Makoto jolts up, his face ashen. “Haru. We didn’t – we never used a condom.”

Haru shakes his head. “I take contraceptives, don’t worry,” he says dully, failing to keep the frustration out of his voice.

Makoto notices, his forehead crinkling in confusion. “I feel like I’m missing something, here.”

“It’s good that I didn’t forget to take _that_ pill, or you’d have a problem,” Haru goes on bitterly.

Makoto looks perplexed. “Me? What about you, did you _want_ to get pregnant?”

Haru sighs, his irritation fading. “No. I want to swim.” His career would be over before it even began.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Sometimes Haru hates how well Makoto can still read him after all this time. He swallows against the lump in his throat. “I just thought that this meant as much to you as it did to me,” he says shortly, voice tight.

Makoto gapes at him. “ _What?_ ”

“I still appreciate you helping –”

“You think that – Haru, it meant _everything_ to me.” Makoto says, his face painfully vulnerable with emotion.

Haru blinks. “Oh,” he says intelligently. “Me too.” He mentally kicks himself for not being better at this.

Makoto ducks his head down, trying to hide a smile that Haru can still feel against his neck. “We’re kind of dumb.”

“Yeah,” Haru agrees, a smile of his own spreading across his face unbidden.

They sit there, grinning sillily for a while.

“About what we were talking about earlier. If you, um, wanted to start a family someday. After you retire from competitive swimming. I would really like that,” he finishes timidly.

Haru opens his mouth to reply, but Makoto cuts him off in a high-pitched voice. “Not that! You’d even _want_ – we’re not even _dating_ – oh my gosh, I got way ahead of myself,” he says, sitting up, looking flustered.

“Makoto. Calm down,” Haru says, letting out an amused breath. “I’d like that. And we’re dating,” he says firmly, almost as an afterthought.

A shy smile curves Makoto’s lips. “Alright.” His eyes flicker down to Haru’s mouth, and he braces himself over him to kiss him sweetly, achingly sincere.

It’s taken them a very long time, but as Haru closes his eyes and takes Makoto’s face into his hands, he thinks to himself that it was definitely worth the wait.


End file.
